


Keeper

by TheEeveeTamer



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alpha Rodrigue, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Biting, Blood, But like not married to Lambert, But only a little mention, Eye Contact, Imprinting, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Marking, Married Rodrigue, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mating Rituals, Mutual Pining, My "All Blaiddyds Are Omegas" Agenda, Nesting, Omega Lambert, Pre-Canon, Ritual Sex, Scenting, Semi-Public Sex, Virgin Lambert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:15:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24461887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEeveeTamer/pseuds/TheEeveeTamer
Summary: This had been the Fraldarius family's duty for nearly four centuries.
Relationships: Lambert Egitte Blaiddyd/Rodrigue Achille Fraldarius
Comments: 8
Kudos: 50
Collections: FE3H Kink Meme





	Keeper

**Author's Note:**

> For the Three Houses kink meme!
> 
> Text of the original prompt is as follows:
> 
> The Blaiddyd bearers have always been omegas. It could pose a problem for ruling a Kingdom, but Faerghus had already found a solution: the last heat of the royal heir before marriage should be taken by someone different than their future spouse.
> 
> This way one could avoid the omega's instinctual imprinting of their first alpha and heat partner from falling into the royal consort and thus leaving them with enough power to manipulate the King. And so the person taking the Blaiddyd's first would be an alpha of utmost confidence.
> 
> An honor that since the times of Loog, has fallen on the Fraldarius line.
> 
> And now, that Fraldarius is Rodrigue.
> 
> He's ready to do his duty, he's ready to go through the ritual and take Lambert's first. Except Rodrigue wants more. Usually he is better at handling it, but not this time. Not when he's taking his King, his liege, the omega he's always loved and desired before he even knew what desire was.
> 
> And by the Goddess, does Lambert smell so good. He's begging, and his scent gland is right there...
> 
> I just want Lambert and Rodrigue to fuck during heat for the first time by some ritualistic/custom for the good of Faerghus (and not their desires) and both getting out of control because of instincts AND their pining.
> 
> ++ the ritual is done with observers  
> +++ any and all ritual preparations. Scented oils? Painted marks? Fasting??  
> ++++++ Rodrigue Bites and marks Lambert  
> +++++++ if he does it while already married.

The royal palace was alight with activity when he arrived, but no one paid him any mind as he guided his horse to the stables and dodged frantic servants carrying vases of flowers and bundles of soft white cloth to the grand ballroom. This event was months in the making, and like all royal weddings it was a happy time for the kingdom. In just a few short days their crown prince would have a mate. 

The scurrying and the disinterest in his presence did not offend him. If anything it was a blessing. The happy murmurs and excitement were nothing short of a knife to his heart. It was easier for him if he did not think about  _ that  _ ceremony. That one was not for him.

The tradition dated back centuries, to Loog himself. It was an unfortunate accident of biology that the vast majority of Blaiddyd crest bearers presented as omegas, and Lambert was no different than nearly four hundred years of his ancestors. The Blaiddyd line had not persisted for so long by accident. Those that bore the crest were perfectly suited to Faerghus, and if a soul alive thought them weaker for their dynamic then, well, they had never met Lambert. Still, it was just a fact that omega biology lent a certain… special consideration to the one that took their virginity. 

This was rarely a consideration for most bonded pairs, but most bonded pairs did not have to rule an entire kingdom. A king could not be beholden to his consort, and no matter how pure the union or the intentions these men always had agendas. So for centuries the Fraldarius line had been a keeper of sorts. They took the first heat and the imprint of the future ruler so their liege could always rule without interference from their bondmate. That was Rodrigue’s duty here today, and why he was here at the dawn of Lambert’s wedding: an event he had no intention of actually attending.

Per instruction, he’d packed a bag of his dirty clothes and he had not bathed since he received the letter announcing Lambert’s heat had begun. Between his regular training and travel it was enough to smell himself, but not so harsh as to be overwhelming. At least, not to him. To an omega in heat he would be intoxicating in this state, which is exactly why this was asked of him. Scent helped solidify the imprinting.

Once he retreated to the spare room in the royal wing of the palace he got ready alone, because really there was not much to do. It was simply a matter of slipping out of his clothes and into an easily removable robe, and then waiting for Lambert to be ready for him. He was only disturbed so a servant could take the bag he’d brought with him.

While his preparations were not arduous, he knew the same could not be said for Lambert. He would be squirming as his attendants put him in the bath and doused him in strong, scented oils to dull the reek of his heat. Then three of them, or perhaps more, Lambert could be quite unpredictable, but at least three, would hold him down as they took a razor to him, cutting back every inch of hair on his body until his skin was smooth and soft as the day he was born.

Finally, when he was ready they would paint his body with curly little symbols, the same ones that would be painted on him in just a few days when he took his real mate. One over his womb for fertility, over his heart for joy, and over his throat for love. But, unlike a wedding, Lambert’s flesh would be dotted with black pigment instead of white. Because this was not a wedding, it was a perversion. They wanted no children, no joy, no love to result from this union.

The symbols were a superstition, but they were also a reminder. Alphas liked to pretend they did not feel for those that imprinted on them, but it was an open secret that this was a lie. That was why they were encouraged to find partners and have children of their own long before the future king was ready for this process. Rodrigue had a mate, though they were not officially bonded -- the bond would interfere with the imprint -- they were married all the same, with one child already between them. All designed to prevent any feelings from forming during the imprinting process.

They had not, however, explained how he was supposed to deal with the feelings he’d caught  _ before  _ this. Before he’d even known what imprinting or sex or desire were, when they were just boys wrestling in the dirt and pretending toy sticks were swords.

But it was no good to dwell on it. They were far past the point where those feelings would have been relevant. Lambert was engaged. He was married. There could be nothing between them.

It took hours before he was finally called in. Perhaps the prince had been more unruly than even he had anticipated. He followed one of the attendants to the room down the hall, heart pounding with the anticipation.

It was a large but sparse space. A guest bedroom designed to be put together on demand for whichever visiting dignitary would be staying in it. The bed was pushed to the center of the room, so they would be visible at all angles to those set to watch over them.

Despite the fact that this was doubling as a heat chamber, it smelled of almost nothing. Of course he knew it would be like this, all to keep him in his right mind during the process, but a small seed of disappointment still took root in the pit of his stomach.

The prince was already splayed out on the bed, six attendants pinning his arms down and his legs wide. His Alpha scent must have reached his nose, because Lambert bucked his hips, trying to throw off the weight from his arms and legs so he could turn over and present himself with his ass high in the air. It would have been easier if he didn’t have to look him in the eyes. This could be sex, just sex, just like it was supposed to be, but this ritual always worked more effectively if they could see each other face to face, so he had to stay on his back.

The sight of Lambert naked was nothing new to him. They’d been friends for as long as he could remember and he’d seen Lambert’s body in every context imaginable, from stripping his clothes off to dive headfirst into a river when they were scarcely five to panting and squirming in the throes of his heat, vulnerable but too weak to make it somewhere safe without Rodrigue’s help to carry him just a few months prior.

But this… this was something completely different.

Lambert’s body had always been presented candidly, and absolutely never for his eyes alone even if he did indulge himself in the sight time and time again. And the nest...

… His nest was beautiful. Perfect. The duvet couldn’t be seen under the carefully laid layers of Rodrigue’s clothes. He realized that this must have been where most of the preparation time had gone. Not into pinning a squirming omega down to get him ready, but in constructing this beautiful nest just for him.

And the way Lambert looked at him... Nervous, distressed, but who wouldn’t be with six people pinning them on their back? The urge to comfort and soothe came on quickly.

All of this registered in a moment, and then he was naked and on top of the prince, snarling at the interlopers to back off as he slid between his thighs to keep his legs parted.

He sought approval with his low whines, and Rodrigue would be remiss not to give it to him. A beautiful nest, filled with his scent and his things and made just for him deserved praise. His heart flipped in his chest as the weight of that dawned on him. Lambert wanted to be surrounded by him for his heat, because Rodrigue made him feel safe enough to give himself to, to imprint on. It was beautiful. It was deadly.

“I do not deserve an honor such as this, your highness.”

Part of him hoped for a coherent answer, even if he knew not to expect one. Even this close he still couldn’t smell the heat as poignantly as he should, but he knew by the way Lambert squirmed and whimpered that he was in the throes of it. So he offered no words in return for the praise. Instead the pleased rumbling in his chest rattled the bed and shook Rodrigue to his core, more poignant than any words could have been.

There were so many things he wanted to say -- needed to say -- in that moment, but there were prying eyes and prying ears, and those thoughts died on his lips. It would be easier for both of them if he buried his feelings deep inside of himself and simply did his duty. So that’s what he did, because as much as it hurt he would never want Lambert to suffer under the weight of his affections, suffer the knowledge that his best friend had feelings for him that he could never return.

He lined himself up, the tip of his cock pressing against Lambert’s twitching, wet hole. It was going to be painful, he knew that from experience. Painful and intimate and sensitive, all the more so because Rodrigue was not his. He would not stay with him when it was done. As soon as the imprint took he would leave him to ride out the rest of his heat alone, crying and desperate and empty, with no hands to comfort him or lips to whisper soft reassurances and sweet nothings. He never wanted to hurt him, never would hurt him in any other circumstance, but he had to. He hoped Lambert knew that.

The prince squeezed his eyes shut, some small, coherent part of his mind anticipating the pain.

“No.” Rodrigue commanded gently. “Look at me.”

After a moment the omega opened his eyes wide, the cool blue burning a hole through him. He did not break eye contact as Rodrigue sheathed himself inside, though he visibly struggled, eyes narrowing slightly as tears pricked the corners and left wet trails along his face.

“I am so sorry.” He muttered, thumbs stroking across his cheeks to wipe the pain and the hurt away.

He wished they could stop there, that this could be the end of it. Not because he didn’t want to do this, but because he wanted it far too much. His country needed a king. Rodrigue was here to provide that. That was it. He had to remember that.

But it felt…  _ Goddess  _ it felt so right to be joined like this, bodies melded together as one. Lambert clawing at his back, gouging long red trails with his fingernails as he desperately tried to breathe through the pain of taking a man for the first time. And still he did not look down, look away, look anywhere but in his eyes, because Rodrigue had not yet commanded it of him.

Lambert’s scent finally wafted up to his nose, clouded through the perfumes but still there, still distinctly him. He fought with himself for a moment, unsure of where the line was and what the consequences would be for crossing it. But Lambert was whimpering under him and his every instinct rebelled against the idea of leaving him to struggle for the sake of propriety.

If he went too far then the attendants would stop him, surely. They were there at the edges of the room watching for a reason. He dove down and pressed his nose to the sensitive skin just below Lambert’s scent glands and the intricate black ink. Nipping and suckling at the snow white skin until he was heady with the scent of his arousal. Just to help Lambert relax, just to ease the process of course.

After a minute he thrust shallowly once just to test the waters. Lambert gasped, more pleasured than pained by the motion, and he took that as encouragement to continue.

Perhaps he should have maintained his distance, but it was too late now. With each thrust it became easier and easier to lose himself, the fog in his head dulling the importance of any noise that wasn’t his sighs and moans and strangled cries of his name, so sweet and clear in between the babbling mess. The importance of any sight that wasn’t his dull, dazed blue eyes peering into him with so much adoration and trust as his feverish body clenched and twitched around his cock and his neck stretched to expose his pale throat.

He couldn’t… He shouldn’t… Looking was dangerous. Then arms pulled him back down and there were teeth on Rodrigue’s neck, digging into his flesh. The first half of a bond. This was normal, Lambert was in heat and not in his right mind. He could endure. His body stuttered mid-thrust and his arms turned to jelly under him, but thankfully did not give out. Before he could think his nose was buried in the crook of Lambert’s neck once more.

He smelled so good, and the taste of his sweat on his tongue was so sweet. It was easy, far too easy to forget that they were liege and vassal and not something more. Never anything more. This was all he would ever get, so he was going to savor every thrust, every scream, every sharp nip of teeth against his neck as Lambert desperately sought his approval, his companionship, his love, his knot… He didn’t know. He didn’t care. Those teeth breaking his skin, marring his flesh and painting the dips and of his shoulder and the planes of his chest with rivulets of ugly red, was the most euphoric feeling in the world. 

“Rodrigue…” Lambert panted. “I want… need…  _ A-ah! _ ” and his sentence was broken as Rodrigue pushed into him once more. But he didn’t need to say it. Rodrigue knew exactly what he needed by the way he bared his neck to him.

And suddenly the haze in his head made this all feel so right. The black on Lambert’s throat, smudged from sweat and saliva, was no longer a warning, but an obstacle. 

He didn’t think. Driven by instinct and desire and not much else, he dove and he bit until teeth broke skin and the bond was complete. The taste of ink was on his tongue, the scent wafting up to his nose from his blackened lips.

The room, silent of all but the sounds of pleased whimpers and skin slapping together, exploded around him as he forced his knot inside. Hands tore at his body, desperate to get him up and away before the damage could be done, but it was too late. He snarled, hunched over to protect  _ his  _ omega as Lambert flinched at the unwelcome hands invading their nest and grabbing at his skin. The intruders backed off quickly; there was no intervention that could reverse what he’d just done.

There was no space to think about the repercussions. The wedding, the fiancé, the kingdom, the throne… None of that mattered. There was nothing in his world but his mate purring happily against his chest.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not saying you have to read this as the moment baby Dimitri was conceived, I'm just saying that you can totally read this as the moment baby Dimitri was conceived if you want to.


End file.
